Borderlands: In Search of History
by Skullhead881
Summary: 200 years have passed since the Vault was opened. People everywhere believe a new doorway to the treasures exist, and many will do whatever it takes to get it.But only one team of four will get there first, and learn the truth. This is their tale.
1. Hunters

**Chapter 1: Hunters**

The snow blew past the window with such force it rattled the very foundation of the building. It was far more often to see this than the desert lands, as seven years of the planets rotation consisted of snow storms, while only three were hot and dangerous.

"Have you found it yet?" Asked the crew worker, talking to his boss regarding the current dig site they had established. They were searching for something valuable, valuable enough that everyone had to carry at least three guns.

"You will know when we find it," stated the Boss, a man in his late seventies; a grand achievement on the harsh planet. His snow white beard covered much of his face, and his eyes sagged a bit as they strained to glimpse at the dirt and clay below him. The shovel in his hands made the hurt with every maneuver of the earth, the blisters worsening as time went by.

"Never thought I'd miss that damned desert terrain," stated the worker. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, taking a puff. "Only thing that keeps me going is knowing we're almost done."

"Not almost," stated the boss, a sound of hope in his voice. He turned to face the worker, who in turn looked at his boss. "We're done, my lad!"

"We've done it?" He walked over and looked at what the boss was holding. It was a small triangle, no bigger than a standard grenade. All around it were markings of an unknown origin to the untrained eye; to someone who could decipher them, it was child's play.

"We've done it indeed, Markus." He stood, holding the triangle out in the air. "After months of searching, we've finally found-"

His speech was cut short by a sharp sound of bullet colliding and passing through flesh. Within seconds, the crew worker and boss were on the ground, dead.

A smile drew across the snipers covered face. He stood, slinging the weapon across his back and advancing. His eyes covered with heat sensing goggles, he proceeded with caution, making sure he was truly alone. Drawing a pistol and entering the tent, he took the triangle from the Boss and smiled once more.

"Hello, beautiful," he stated in a raspy voice, lowering his face bandana from his mouth. "So this is where you've been hiding, eh?"

He laughed for a brief moment before leaving the tent, taking a few credits and some food with him. It was all he would need for the time being. He had gotten what he had come for.

The first of five key pieces to the Last Vault Door.

_So, the legend of the Vault is what you wish to know, eh? Well, sit back and grab your popcorn, because this story just got a bit more interesting than the last time you heard it._

_200 years ago, back when Pandora was still somewhat new and still had that new planet smell, a bunch of Vault Hunters, known now as the Lucky Ones, came to Firestone, each with the same goal in mind, as was the goal of everyone back then; Finding the Vault._

_Well, they sure found it, but it wasn't what they had hoped for. They had hoped for fame, fortune, and eternal glory; they only got the last part. You see, when they opened the Vault, they found something no one knew what there. The Destroyer as we call it is a being from another dimension…or I should say that it WAS. They defeated the beast, and in return, had the Vault seal on them. They learned the Vault was originally a prison for The Destroyer, and that they were the only ones who could kill it, led by the false hope of a Vault of Alien Technology and endless glory._

_This, of course, didn't quite settle with the locals. They kept fighting over the access to the Vault, in an effort to wait out the next 200 years, in hopes that the Destroyer was simply a guard for the real treasure, and that the Lucky Ones were simply too slow in killing it._

_Those who fought more than likely died. Those who even went near the area would end up dead. And for what? A massive explosion to completely destroy the Vault door._

_Now, with the Vault gone, people have gone back to their original lives. Trying to brave the harsh land that is Pandora. I myself am a trader of weapons, helping those who have no other means of defending themselves. I get by, if only barely._

_Now, before I get ahead of myself, allow me to say these three things:_

_One) My name is Yuslav. I trade guns and ammo, as well as the occasional mission for cash._

_Two)The Vault DOES have treasures hidden away, but one must access it first._

_Three) Another 'door' exists._

**BORDERLANDS: IN SEARCH OF HISTORY**

Her eyes opened with a start as a man howled with pain outside. She grabbed her shotgun and ducked under her cot, ready to face whatever was to come. Her barely covered body dangerously exposed her, and with the recent amount of Psycho and gang activity around here, she couldn't risk injury.

Her shotgun, which she called Lulu Bell, was a custom built version of the Vladof SPR43 Raging Death, a model that has been in commission for hundreds of years for one simple reason; it kills good. Hers had a custom built scope that measured heart rates of victims, loaded with incendiary rounds that not only lit the skin of those hit on fire, but also the internal organs and even bone marrow, packing one hell of a hurtful punch.

As for whom she was, Joliet was a weapons expert. She could disassemble and reassemble a weapon of almost any make in pure darkness in an hour tops. She knew every nook and cranny of the weapons she used, and only found ways to improve them by doing so. She could make a pistol into the best sniper rifle around, without even attaching a scope or extending the barrel.

As for Joliet herself, she was about 5'9". Long black hair ran down to the middle of her back, and an eye patch covered her left eye. She always makes up a new story as for how it happened, so no one really knows how it happened. She usually wore dark clothing, making it easier to hide at night. She had plenty of belts (across her waist, arms, legs and even chest) stocked with extra ammo, and never left without her trusty weapons bag, which was simply an entire bag full of spare guns and parts, as well as a few provisions like food and water. Her hazel eyes often threw people off, easily being the most attractive feature she possesses.

As she lay under the cot, barely dressed and slightly shivering from the cold, she wondered why no other noises had been heard. She slowly got up and walked to the door of her hut. It was opened by a finger print reader, so only she could get in. As she stood against the wall next to the entryway, she pressed her thumb to the panel and the door swung open.

Before it was even halfway up, she was in front of it, shotgun ready for blood. What she saw wasn't what she had been hoping for.

"Damnit, Varen!" She exclaimed, seeing her fellow hunter lying in front of her hut. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I was trying to find my way back to my hut," he stated, accepting the hand she offered to help him up. "I stubbed my toe on something and howled in pain. The winds took me off my feet and I fell in front of your hut."

"I'm sure that's the reason," Joliet stated, walking back inside her hut and closing the door.

"I just can't catch a break," Varen stated, walking towards his hut. "Get caught looking in on a girl in the shower ONE time and you never live it down."

Varen was a skinny person, one you might not expect to be a mercenary. He always cracked jokes, even on the job, and was handier than even the finest marksman with a pistol, though he preferred SMGs. His black goatee covered the entirety of his chin, and the large helmet covered the rest of his head. His bald head was never without a hat or helmet, and no one really minded that. He had a massive burn across the side of his left face from a mission that went wrong, and the hats/ helmets usually covered it well.

A Skag was right next to him, walking alongside him without even thinking of attack. A Skag was a large dog like beast with natural armor plating all around its body, as well as an interesting mouth structure. While the lower jaw was like anything else, the upper jaw was separated into two, so whenever it opened its mouth, it looked like the upper half of its mouth split its face in two.

This Skag in particular was named Buster, and Varen had raised it from birth. It was his constant companion, at home and on missions. He had specially designed armor for it, if only to make a second defense for the natural plating it already possessed.

"You think that's fair, Buster?" He asked the Skag as they walked on. The Skag made a gurgling noise before shaking its head. After years of exposure to humans, it had learned to understand them quite well.

"Didn't think so," he said to himself with a smile as he neared his hut. Outside the hut, however, was another man, leaning against the door.

Raxus wasn't the kind of guy you'd want to cross. He was an expert with a sniper rifle or anything that required long distance shooting, and had proven himself to the Crimson Guard within his first five minutes. He had risen through the ranks and become one of the best, only to be bored with it and go free lance.

His apparel wasn't exactly fit for that of winter storms; no sleeved skin tight vest covered his upper body, while a pair of shorts that wen barely past his knees covered the legs. A helmet rested on his head with a single glass visor across his eyes, making it impossible to see them. He wore combat boots to cover his feet, and they were probably the warmest item he wore.

He had been raised in the winter areas all of his life, and had had his body grow adapt to the cold. It was heat that was occasionally the problem. During the three year turn of the desert, Raxus would often spend most of his time underground.

"Get some sleep, he stated to Varen, pushing himself off of his hut. "We meet the client tomorrow."

"So you DO speak!" Varen joked; Raxus barely ever spoke.

Raxus, as if to prove that point, sneered slightly and walked towards his own hut.

"What? No kiss goodnight?" Raxus flipped Varen off before entering his hut, no doubt to get some much needed sleep.

"You really don't want to piss him off."

Varen turned to see Krain, the cyborg they had along with them, standing in the doorway to their hut. After a freak explosion, half of Krain's body was damaged beyond repair. He barely managed to survive the cybernetic transformation, whereas his family hadn't. He's added features to it over the years, all in the hopes of finding out who was responsible for his transformation and the death of his family.

"And why is that?"

"Because that guy could kill you with a spitball from fifty yards if he really wanted to."

"He doesn't scare me."

They entered the hut and lay on their individual cots, Buster resting on the floor next to Varen.

"What do you suppose this job this Yuslav guy has for us?" Varen asked as Krain was polishing his minigun arm attachment.

"No doubt he wants us to kill someone," the cyborg stated, expecting the gun carefully. "That's usually what people want these days."

"Shame this place went to shit after the Vault went under."

"I still think it's there," Krain stated, putting the gun on the floor. "We just have to find out where."

"Keep dreaming, Lug Nut," Varen stated with a chuckle. That thing is long gone, along with all its secrets."

Krain smiled and closed his eyes. "Only time will tell."


	2. The Job

**Chapter 2: The Job**

"Why do I always have to be the one who carries the heaviest load?" Varen sated bluntly as the four walked towards the city limits of Black Haven, a new province about 50 miles east of the ruins of Firestone.

"Because you won't shut the hell up," Joliet stated, gripping her shotgun like it was going to fly away if she didn't.

"Excuse me, Miss Attitude!" Varen stated under his breath, readjusting the bag on his back and looking to Buster. "No respect, I tells ya."

Buster grunted approval before running after a small Kryver (A rabbit sized six legged possum looking creature with seven spikes jutting from its back for defense).

Raxus held his hand in a fist, motioning for the rest of them to stop. Joliet and Krain froze immediately, keeping silent.

"FINALLY!" Varen stated loudly, dropping the pack to the ground with a loud thud. Joliet and Krain looked back at him with a scowl, and he began to wonder what it was he had done.

Raxus brought the scope of his sniper rifle to his eye, looking to the valley below.

Covered entirely in snow, a large shanty-like town emerged, several dim yellow lights poking through the wind. The buildings had paint worn from the sides, due to the constant barrage of wind and snow. Several of the buildings looked in disrepair, though they were probably the sturdiest. It was the city of Haven, the longest standing city in the Winter Plains.

"Let's move," Raxus stated, placing the sniper rifle on the clasp he had on his back. He began down the hill, Krain and Joliet following behind.

"Oh boy. Here we go again!" Varen began to lift the bag back onto his back, only to have an ear-shattering howl cry out from behind him. Slowly he let the bag fall as he turned, shock taking over at the sight behind him.

Standing in the snow a mere thirty yards away, towering just over twelve feet tall, was a hairy white four armed monster called a Jaulter. Its massive snout bared its four rows of razor sharp teeth, nestled in its mouth just above the three pure black eyes.

"Varen! Get back!" Raxus shouted, grabbing the rifle with lightning fast reflexes and firing two shots faster than anyone else could react. The creature doubled back in pain as Varen rushed back, Buster leaping towards the creature as Varen shot the beast in its leg.

Joliet rushed in alongside Buster, the two of them flanking the beast on both its sides. Buster began to bite into its leg, while Joliet unloaded shell after shell from Lulu Bell. The Custom-Made-High-Impact-Fire-Burst rounds implanted themselves into the creature's skin before exploding in a small pool of magna, completely melting the left arm of the beast right off. It howled in pain as it kicked Buster off, using its right arm to swing its momentum around and land a hit on Joliet, who flew into a nearby pile of snow, barely avoiding a large rock as she landed.

Varen wiped around at the sight of Joliet beefing it, whipping out his twin Thunder-Punch SMG's with custom scope and Electro-Poison Rounds. Both arms jolted as the twin guns unloaded all they had in their clips, implanting each bullet into the creatures back.

Krain ran straight up to the creature with his metallic fist, ramming the metal straight into the creatures lower jaw. He sent it flying into the air about five feet before quickly cycling out his shotgun (High Polymer bullets laced with a highly toxic venom from a poison Skag). He unloaded two rounds into the creatures belly before it hit the ground and swiped at him, tossing him aside like a small child kicking a tower of Lego's.

Raxus shot once more from his sniper, having lined up the shot perfectly, this time hitting it in the face. The creatures snout was no bleeding profusely, it's back in tatters and it left arm completely off. It fell over slowly under the sheer amount of torment and blood loss, barely able to continue breathing, but still having enough fight in him for one last desperate act.

The Jaulter has a special sack of acidic fluids nestled deep within it, which makes it a primary target for those wishing to use it to enhance their weapons. It also works as a self defense mechanism, allowing it to react to the creatures unnaturally acidic blood, causing a chemical reaction that makes the creature self destruct. The reaction itself is only toxic if ingested, making it safe to touch…so long as you down get any in your mouth.

The Jaulter ripped open it's stomach, exposing the poison sack to his blood. The blue blood began to mix with the black of the poison, causing a dark blue color to form.

"GET DOWN!" Raxus shouted as he ducked, watching Krain and Varen do the same while hoping that Joliet was far enough away.

The creature exploded, sending its remaining body parts and organs about the area, covering everything within sight. The stench was unbearable to those who had smelled it before, and even then it was pretty bad. The hot liquid soon was steaming all around them as it reacted to the cold of the snow, making the smell simply smell wet and hot, like an extremely fat man in a sauna.

Slowly everyone but Joliet stood, Krain rushing over to aid her. "Everyone okay?" Raxus called out. After a nod from Varen and Krain, he followed the Cyborg as Varen went to check on Buster. How is she?"

"Not good," Krain stated, picking her up in his arms. "She has a massive gash across her lower abdomen, probably caused by that things claws. She should praise whatever God she believes in that none of that toxic shit got into her when that thing blew the fuck up. We gotta get her somewhere safe to stitch her up fast, or she might not make it."

"Well it's a good thing you made all that ruckus then, ain't it?"

The three men turned to see another man standing about fifty feet away, holding a massive machete in one hand and a shotgun in the other.

"You all made such a noise I heard you all the way from the settlement! Name's Yuslav, and if I'm not mistaken, your them adventurous folks I hired for my little…expedition."

= = = = = The Next Morning = = = = =

Yuslav led the group to his shop in Winter Plains, giving Joliet her own bed and calling for Dok (The Local Doctor) and his ClapTrap Meds to help Krain in stitching her back up. Krain stayed by Joliet's bed into the early hours of the next morning, making sure she would pull through.

"That's a pretty loyal guy you've got," Yuslav said to Varen and Raxus, who were in his kitchen eating a much appreciated meal. "Good with medicine too, by the looks of it."

"Krain over there was raised by someone who claims to be a Shaman," Varen stated, handing a piece of raw meat to Buster. "When the accident happened, the one that caused him to become all roboty, his guardian cast him out, saying he would never be able to connect with the spirit again. He's since devoted his life to helping others, and after a completely random happenstance, he bumped into the three of us and helped us along our way."

"Then how did you three meet?"

"Joliet is my little sister," Raxus began, taking a sip of his coffee. "Not a literal sister in biological terms, but a sister in the sense that we've been raised together since we were both three years old. One day, she gets a job hunting down some guy, and asks me to come along. On our way, I ask what we're supposed to do with this guy when we find him. Turns out we gotta kill him."

"First time for you then, I presume?"

"Yeah. I had a plan to be a farmer up until then. She handed me a sniper rifle when we were close to where our target was supposed to be. I set it up after she shows me how, and take the shot when I see the guy. I didn't kill him, but I brought him down. Joliet rushes in to finish the job, and we find out our target is actually Varen here. Apparently, he had stolen a Skag pup from some warlord, and the warlord wanted it back. Was gonna train it to be the best Skag fighter in the world. Joliet couldn't go through with killing him, and we managed to get out of the deal somehow. Long story short, I shot him and he hasn't stopped following us since."

"Wow…"

"I know," Varen stated, looking perplexed. "That's the most I've heard him talk, too. Kind of creepy. Doesn't suit you that well."

Raxus smacked Varen across the side of his face as he stood, taking his coffee with him. He stepped outside, looking out at the morning sun.

"He always this moody?"Yuslav asked.

"No, usually he's like a little girl who just found out she's Emo and not Goth."

Joliet walked into the room, a small amount of blood on her shirt. She sat down next to Varen, and before he could say anything, she stared at him with her trademarked "Give me lip and I'll shove Lulu Bell so far up your ass you'll be shitting gunpowder the rest of your life."

He turned away from her and returned to his breakfast as she reached for cup of coffee. Raxus came back in, sitting down in his original spot. "How is he?"

"He'll be fine," Joliet stated, gulping down the liquid quickly. "Dok says that he just has to patch up a few small holes. Otherwise the ClapTrap can take care of all the mechanical stuff."

"That's good," Varen stated, leaning back in his chair. "I thought I was gonna be to the only sane person left of us."

Raxus and Joliet stared at him and he hunched up into a little ball.

"By the way, Yuslav," Joliet began as he stood to refill his drink. "What is this job you want us to do?"

Yuslav was smiling as he turned, grasping his drink firmly. "You are a curious one, I see. Well, all in due time. But first, a story.

"It was many years ago when my father told me the Legend of the Vault Hunters. Four seemingly ordinary wastes that did the impossible; find the Vault."

"Yeah, we know the story, dude," Varen stated. "Get to the point."

"Patience. After they opened it, The Destroyer came and attacked. The Hunters defeated the beast, the portal closing for what seemed to be forever.

"But, a short while later, those who could translate the ancient text discovered that the Vault would reopen with 200 years. The locals who moved in claimed the land and the Vault as theirs, saying that it was one their land. The Crimson Lance had a different idea.

"Violence broke out with miles of the place. Local farmers and business types took up arms against all who would come near the place, often times leading to disputes between the locals and the Crimson Lance themselves. On one such occasion, after years of the locals forcing them away, the Crimson Lance sent in an army of men to take them out.

"The battle raged for days. My Great-grandfather, Marcus Kincaid, fought in the battle as well, managing to be one of the only people to live due to his underground dealings with the Lance in providing them weapons. He was a sly bugger, all right.

"During this battle, what we call The Day of Defeat, a computer malfunction within one of the Crimson Lance ships caused a missile to crash into the Vault door, destroying it forever. The Locals pressed even harder on the Lance, who fled as fast as they could to try and not be associated with this catastrophe.

"And thus, the dreams of Vault Hunters everywhere was broken, leaving only us wastes to wander about, building massive cities and towns on this beautiful and deadly planet we call home."

"That's all fun and junk, but what the hell does this have to do with the Job?" Joliet placed Lulu Bell on the table for the right dramatic effect and signal that he should get on with it.

"I see you're not a very patient lady. Very well…Allow to grab something first."

He stood, walking into a back room and heading down some stairs. He returned a few moments later, clutching something close to his body that was wrapped in tattered rags. He sat down, placing the item on the table.

"What's that?" Varen asked, reaching for the item.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT!" Varen retracted his hand so fast he fell out of his chair. "I'm sorry, but what is in these rags is something of great importance to me…and the job I have for you."

"If it's so important," Joliet began. "Why keep it wrapped in those tattered old rags?"

"Because they are part of this as well. Look."

He pulled the item towards him and began to unfold it. As he did, the three could see small markings on the other side of the fabrics, creating a small map. Though that meant little to them when they saw what was inside the map.

Encased in a glass case that would allow for the viewer to see the contents from all angles was a key the size of a human foot. It twisted and turned about, ending in a Key like structure. All about it were markings, depicted in the ancient language that once adorned the walls of the Vault.

"Is that…"

"It is," Yuslav began, picking the key up and holding it up to his face. "This is the last surviving Key to The Vault."

"How the hell did you get this?" Raxus asked, dumbfounded by what he was seeing.

"This was given to me by my father, who got it from my great grandfather Marcus. It was to never be revealed to anyone until this year…exactly 200 years after the Day of Defeat."

"You can't seriously believe-"

"Oh but I do Joliet. The map tells all. Out there, just beyond the Plains of Suffering, is a secondary Vault Door!"

"Say who what why how HUH?" Raxus exclaimed, dropping his drink on the ground.

"Yes, Raxus. I have irrefutable proof that there is a second Vault. And from what I can tell, no one else knows about it."

"What's the payment?" Joliet stated bluntly.

"You must have misunderstood me," Yuslav began, standing up and walking to the window. "I don't want the contents of the Vault themselves. Material possession is lost upon me, as my trade continually requires me to give away anything I am personally attached to. I've spent my wealth on things that no other man could afford, and have lost even more gambling in the gladiator pits of Mandoza, several hundred miles south of here.

"I've travelled throughout Pandora, and still find an empty void inside of my life. I dabbled in the military, the Crimson Lance, and the Black Market, driving my life slowly into the underworld of this pitiful planet."

He turned back to them, resting his hands on the table.

"I've spent my life trying to make myself known. This is finally the way that I can do it. So you ask me what the payment for finding the Vault will be? And I'm here to tell you that your payment will be The Vault itself. I just want the credit for finding it. Is that understood?"

Raxus, Joliet and Varen were silent for a moment. Each had their heads filled with riches, women (Men in Joliet's case) and power beyond their reckoning. Their silence was only quelled by a groan from the other room, and the sound of a metallic foot lurching towards them.

"I can't believe you guys are still thinking about this," Krain stated, the medic who attending him helping him to the table. "Yuslav I the name right? I'm speaking for them, and yes…we'll take the job."

After the rest of the group agreed, Yuslav began giving them the supplies they needed and another night at his home. For the next morning, they would be embarking on the journey of a lifetime: The Search For The Vault!


End file.
